


I'll Never Be Alone

by KaelsMiscellany



Series: Indulge the Other [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Pack Feels, Tattoos, Thanksgiving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-08
Updated: 2012-11-08
Packaged: 2017-11-18 05:17:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/557281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaelsMiscellany/pseuds/KaelsMiscellany
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Thanksgiving's tomorrow, do you have any plans?”</p>
<p>Surprisingly blunt of her. With an exaggerated stretch he leans back into his chair. “I've got some business to attend to, but I don't know how long it will take me. Why?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Never Be Alone

**Author's Note:**

> So, uh, I guess the next story didn't take me as long as I thought it would (AKA the first scene in the second part hijacked my brain and refused to let me write anything else).
> 
> Title's from "Wolves" by The Good Natured.

An all too familiar dark-spice scent wafts to his nose and he looks up from grading papers to see Lydia about to knock on the door frame. “Hello.”

She lowers her hand and rolls her eyes. “Hello to you too.” Her heart and heels make counterpoint as she walks to his desk. “Thanksgiving's tomorrow, do you have any plans?”

Surprisingly blunt of her. With an exaggerated stretch he leans back into his chair. “I've got some business to attend to, but I don't know how long it will take me. Why?”

Lydia crosses her arms and rests her hip against the side of the desk; he's pretty sure it's not to show off nice slim legs, but he notices them anyways. “Stiles invited the rest of us to dinner at his place and he wanted me to extend the same invitation to you.”

A snort of amusement escapes him. “And are you going? Also tell Stiles that just because you're the one relaying the question doesn't mean I'm more likely to say yes. He's still the one asking.”

She's the one to snort this time. “Of course. Danny and I are going, but Boyd's family is having their own huge to-do so he won't be able to make it.”

Standing up he takes the few steps needed to bridge the gap between them. “I'll try then, but no promises.” He leans down to lay a brief kiss on her temple; the five minute warning bell rings. “You, however, need to get to class.” Oh so gently he smacks her hip.

His Darkling jumps but laughs, “of course, Mr, Hale.” He can't help but grin as she sashays out of the classroom.

-

Taking a deep breath Lydia rings the Stilinski doorbell, wishing, once again, that Danny had waited for her. And just her luck McCall opens the door. “What are you doing here?”

She stiffens at the challenge and looks him straight in the eyes. “Stiles invited me.” The smile she gives him is only mostly fake. “I brought pie.” Technically it's a pumpkin pie waiting to be assembled, but it counts. It also has the added bonus of McCall breaking eye-contact first, giving her a good eyeful of the cumulus mediocris on his temple, the part that she associates with wolves yips in victory.

Her luck's apparently improving thought because Stiles clatters down the nearby stairs a few moments later. “Lydia!”

Tired of being treated like trash by McCall she forces him to take her pie makings and brushes past, letting Stiles scoop her up into a hug. She even lets him hold on longer than she usually does, because he's pack and it's comforting to both of them. He sets her down with a grin. “Glad you could make it, is it a grossly inappropriate if I say you look gorgeous? And you brought. . .pie parts? Are we not good enough for pie?”

Stiles' weirdness and sudden subject changes are growing on her, because his questions are more amusing than annoying. “I prefer my pie at least warm when I eat it, so it made more sense to bring it here and cook it after dinner.”

“Oooo, good idea.” It's then that Stiles apparently realizes they're all still in the foyer. “I think we'd better go to the kitchen before my dad either burns something or thinks something happen and sends out a search party.”

Lydia finds herself laughing as she slips off her shoes and jacket before following Stiles into the house proper. In the kitchen Mrs. McCall is mashing potatoes while the Sheriff is sitting at the counter, pointedly doing nothing. She says hello to both of them as she puts the whipping cream in the fridge. The Sheriff smiles and raises his mug, showing off the smattering of stars on the back of his hand. “Lydia, how are you?”

She shrugs as she puts the rest of her pie stuff in a an unused bit of counter. “I'm alright.” Her eyes dart around and she frowns. “Where's Danny?”

Mrs. McCall looks up from her potatoes, “he wasn't feeling to well and went up to Stiles' room.”

Stiles makes a face. “He was getting a headache.” _Ah, sensory overload_. She'd insisted they have a code to talk about werewolf things in public, and since werewolves didn't really get sick in the same way everyone else did they'd hijacked the usual aches and pains of begin human.

McCall wrinkles his nose. “He's been up there a while, dinners gonna start soon and he's gonna miss it.”

Lydia resists the urge to roll her eyes. She gives Stiles a peck on the cheek. “I'll go fetch him.”

Danny looks up at her when she enters Stiles' room. “I know about dinner.”

This time she does roll her eyes. “Duh,” she sits down next to him in bed. “I'm here to help you try and focus so you don't freak out the McCalls at the table.” Her fingers start carding through his hair and he leans towards her.

“Are you going to tell me to take deep breaths?”

She chuckles. “No.” Hands still in his hair she starts tugging him up and towards her. “Come on, up you lug.” Danny huffs, but goes with the tugging. She puts his face in the crook of her neck. “But I will tell you to breathe.”

Air rushes in and out across her neck as he breathes in her scent. “It'll be better after the full moon.”

The only response she gets is a hum.

Five minutes later Stiles shouts up the stairs up at them that they need to come and eat. They both sigh, but get up.

-

Peter wrinkles his nose in distaste at the blood covering him, even without blood he would have to shower but this is worse.

His gloved hand lifts the man's head up and smiles. “If this wasn't about revenge I'd say you're more trouble than you're worth.”

Dead eyes just stare back.

Letting the head fall back to the ground he stands up and heads back to the hunting blind. Time to start digging.

 

 

 

The sun's starting to set when he finally finishes. A final shovelful of dirt and the grave doesn't look any different from the rest of the small clearing. He can still smell the body, but he can deal with that problem tomorrow. Shifting slightly he starts a ground eating lope that will get him home quickly.

Home is slowly being rebuilt, and it's now at the point where the pack, read Stiles and Lydia, don't constantly complain about meeting in a deathtrap for training. None of the rebuilt interior is painted yet, but for right now that's all for the best. He strops and tosses his shirt and pants into the fireplace. He flinches when the match ignites, but he doesn't hesitate to toss it onto the clothes. Peeling his gloves of he goes into the kitchen. Turning on the faucet he starts shredding them and feeding the scraps into the garbage disposal.

Peter frowns when he notices the time on his way upstairs. He's definitely missed all of dinner, but if he hurries he can still make dessert.

-

Lydia's sharing the couch with Danny and Stiles, both of whom are being disgustingly affectionate towards each other. Then again she's got her legs on both their laps and the Sheriff's side-eying them every once in a while, so the most they get is the occasional kiss. She's not above cockblocking for the greater good.

There's a baseball game on TV but she's only half half paying attention to it, and that's only because of the math, the rest of her is wondering where Peter is. She knows that 'try' isn't 'yes' but it doesn't stop her from hoping.

Distraction comes quickly in the form of the oven timer going off. With an unwilling sigh she gets up off the couch and goes to check on her pie. The smell of squash and spices assaults her nose when she opens the oven door. She snags a toothpick and pokes it into the middle of the pie, pulling it out she's pleased to note it's clean. Sliding on oven mitts she takes the pie out and sets it on a rack to cool, nudging the oven door shut with her foot.

She grabs her whipping cream from the fridge and snags the sugar from its shelf. Cream and sugar go into the stand-mixer bowl and she attaches the whisk that Stiles got out for her earlier. "Turning it on," she mutters for the wolves. A modulated whine fills the kitchen as she turns the mixer on high.

Which is when the doorbell rings.

Lydia's pretty sure it's Peter and even though she wants to answer the door herself, she's got to make sure she doesn't over-beat her cream. She can hear the Sheriff huff in the living room. "Well don't everybody get up at once." A few moments later she sees him in the foyer.

The mixer's loud enough that she can't really hear much over it, but she does barely hear Peter's familiar timbre as he and the Sheriff greet each other. They stop by the kitchen so Peter can drop off a bottle of, what looks like, port. He gives her a brief waves and she nods in return. "Dessert's almost ready."

"Scott, you and Danny need to set up the table for pie." A thud reaches her ears and she bites back a smile.

Stiles joins her in the kitchen and puts his mince-meat pie in the oven to warm up a bit. He nudges her with his shoulder. "Feels better doesn't it?"

Lydia nods, though it would be even better if Boyd were there and she could cuddle with Peter after dessert. She turns off the mixer and unscrews the bowl. Bowl in hand she grabs a large serving spoon before taking both out to the table. Stiles passes her on the way back, hands full of his own pie, rum-sauce, knife, and serving wedge. Slipping oven mitts back on she picks up her pie and heads back into the dining room.

It's a nearly perfect Thanksgiving and Lydia couldn't be happier.

**Author's Note:**

> The Sheriff's starts actually form the [constellation Canes Venatici](http://www.constellationsofwords.com/Constellations/CanesVenatici.html).
> 
> I honestly don't know when the next part will be up, since this was just a wonderful fluke. (Also in the end this will be Sterek, but Laura and Derek have yet to actually make their way back to Beacon Hills)


End file.
